In the Arms of Family
by rayrae118
Summary: Jim's stepfather shows up, just as the Enterprise returns for a shore leave. How will the crew react to this glimpse of their beloved captain's sordid past? Angst, crew friendship/family, Jim being Jim.


**I got this suggestion a while ago, but I wasn't inspired to actually carry it out until now. The crew's reaction to a glimpse of the sordid past of their beloved captain.**

**And I apologize for taking so long, I actually felt inspired, and started writing… and then I killed my computer. Note to self: water and computers **_**don't**_** mix. Grrrr, it was a very expensive lesson =[ then I got sidetracked with work. And this monstrosity just did not want to end. But anyway, here you go, hope you like!**

**As with all my Star Trek stories so far, they're kind of in the same fanverse... it's not necessary to read them in order, but I do sort of reference other stories, so if you're confused about something, that's probably why. But this isn't a direct sequel to anything, so you don't have to worry about missing something huge. Really, it's just minor conversations.  
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**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own thoughts.**

Jim entered his pass code angrily and hurried inside, making sure to lock the door behind him. He couldn't believe it; after all this time, so many years, he thought he had moved on. He thought he was over it. All those evenings of drinking with Bones, finally being able to open up to someone… he had shared, he had purged. Didn't that mean that it would stop affecting him so much now? God, why did it have to affect him so much?

Jim moved over to the far wall and leaned back, letting out a long sigh as he closed his eyes against the sudden burning. He couldn't cry. Not now, and not because of _that man_. Not anymore. Frank had already taken so much from him. He couldn't let him win. He wouldn't let him win.

What was he even doing here? Last Jim had heard, the man was holed up in a bar in the middle of Nowheresville, Iowa.

Jim could only think of one reason why that asshole would show up now, and it didn't bode well for him.

With yet another sigh, Jim buried his face in his hands and did something he hadn't allowed himself to do since that night two years ago, when he had finally told his best friend the truth: he gave in to the tears.

**XXX**

Leonard McCoy looked around briefly, making sure none of the _Enterprise_ crew was around, before he entered the building, making his way quickly towards his goal.

Luck was with him, and Admiral Pike was alone in his office. Which was a good thing, because McCoy didn't bother knocking before he burst in, an act he knew would have him written up on insubordination charges, had anyone but Pike been witness to it.

As it was, Chris Pike only looked up in mock irritation and slight amusement. "Doctor McCoy," he intoned with a stern look that barely covered up the humor, "That door was closed for a reason. Generally, people knock first. Common courtesy, after all."

McCoy just stared at the admiral for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he tried to figure out how he was going to tell the man, _this man who had always acted like more of a father to Jim than anything else, who had loved him like more of a parent than Winona had ever bothered to_, what was going on with his favorite captain at that moment.

After several moments of silence, Pike felt some of the humor and amusement leave the room. It didn't take a genius to figure out something was wrong. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen the doctor look that serious. Annoyed, angry, disgusted, sure. But there was always a sort of playfulness underneath that took away the edge.

Not now. That lighthearted undertone was gone.

"McCoy?" Pike asked uncertainly.

The doctor swallowed and met the admiral's gaze head on. If anyone would or could help him, it was the man standing in front of him right now. "Frank Malone," he said simply.

**XXX**

Nyota Uhura set her drink down carefully and glanced around her, observing with detail the scene around her. It was a typical Friday night at a well-known bar just off Academy grounds, and most of the patrons were cadets, though she caught glimpses of quite a few officers scattered about.

This wasn't exactly how she had planned on spending her evening, but after the events of the last few hours, she didn't really know what to think anymore.

Two years.

Two years since the _Enterprise_ had started its five-year mission.

Two years since she had officially ended the unofficial game she had going on with Jim Kirk, and tried to actually befriend him.

She liked to think that she had succeeded. The two of them had definitely gotten closer since setting out on their voyage.

And now they were back on Earth, for a much needed shore leave. She had planned on spending seventy-two hours without the drama of the _Enterprise_.

It seemed that fate had had other plans.

It was supposed to be a command crew lunch. Just a going away gathering, a sort of 'we've become best friends over the last couple of years, and yes we spend way too much time together, but we're all going off to do shore leave-y type things this weekend, so we won't see each other for three days, and that shouldn't bother us, but for some reason it does, so we're all getting together to have lunch first, because believe it or not we're going to miss each other way more than any of us wants to admit' type of meal.

And it had started out that way. It would have finished that way too, if it weren't for the mystery guest. She didn't know who this 'Frank' was, only that he had Jim looking as if he had seen a ghost, and McCoy frothing at the mouth, looking at the man with a calculating gleam in his eye. Uhura knew that look. It usually came right after Jim had done something stupid, and the doctor was trying to figure out the best place to stick the hypo – the place where it would hurt the most.

Jim had left quickly, not saying more than the man's name, in a choked sort of whisper. McCoy had followed him, the anger dissipating rather quickly into concern. This 'Frank', had looked them all over once, and Uhura remembered the shivers she had repressed, seeing the cold amusement and devious gaze, before he too walked away.

And she, Spock, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov were left wondering just what the hell had happened.

So here she was now, at a bar, apparently looking for answers at the bottom of a bottle. It seemed she and Kirk were more alike than she had realized.

Uhura quickly stomped down on that thought. He wasn't that man. Not anymore. The last two years had really opened her eyes. Jim Kirk was an amazing man, a remarkable captain. Which only made her more worried now; just who was this stranger, who could make such a negative impact on her friend?

A weight settled on her right, and Uhura didn't need to look over to know that Spock had joined her. Which was almost amusing, seeing a Vulcan in a bar. But she knew that his interests were probably different from the rest of the patrons of this establishment.

Another mass intruded in her field of vision on her left, and, turning her head, she nodded and offered up a pained smile as Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty crowded around.

Uhura didn't need to ask, she knew why there were here. It confused her, and strangely flattered her, that they would come to her. Normally, she knew they would have gone to McCoy, but he had been as absent as Jim, since lunch. So apparently, she was the next best thing.

They all settled in, a false sense of ease descending on the group as each of them tried to come up with some way to break the silence.

Scotty waved the bartender over, and they all ordered, though of course, Spock declined, and Uhura stopped the man from bringing the still underage Chekov his requested drink. She refused to waver under the pout the young Russian leveled at her.

Finally, after they were all set and the bartender had left to tend to other patrons, it was Sulu who spoke up. "Do you know who that was?" he asked the female lieutenant curiously and with worry written clearly across his face.

Uhura glanced at the pilot, and then back down at her hands clasped firmly around her bottle. She let out a breath and closed her eyes briefly, before settling her gaze straight ahead, as if studying the wall of bottles behind the bar. She shook her head slightly. "No idea," she replied, voice quiet.

"Doctor McCoy appeared to be aware of the situation," Spock commented, watching Uhura with sharp eyes, studying and assessing, the way he always did.

Uhura let out a sound that, if she were less ladylike, would have been called a snort. "And that's the question right there, isn't it?" At the First Officer's lifted eyebrow, she elaborated, "Where the hell is McCoy? He disappeared from lunch, same as Jim. I haven't seen either of them since."

"Me neither," Sulu broke in, as Chekov and Scotty nodded in agreement.

"Dat vas wery strange," the navigator commented, his eyes large with concern for his captain and friend that refused to be hidden.

Scotty nodded as he downed the last of his drink and motioned to the bartender to bring him another. "Has the lad ever mentioned a Frank before?" he asked, raising the new glass to his lips as he observed his friends.

They all shook their heads. A moment later, Sulu, who was resting against the bar, observing the room, nodded his head towards the entrance, and commented, "Why don't we ask _him_?"

They all turned around and watched as McCoy stopped just inside the door and looked around. He appeared to have a goal in mind, and definitely seemed to be looking for something.

Uhura lifted her hand and gestured for the doctor to join them. He scowled, but made his way to the group.

McCoy internally kicked himself. He should have been prepared for this. Of course they would have questions. A small sigh escaped his lips as he nodded to the bartender, who had slid him his customary bourbon as soon as he had stopped at the bar. This was one of his and Jim's most frequent haunts, which was how the bartender knew his drink order, and why he was here: some small part of him thought – or maybe hoped – that he would find his best friend sitting in a corner knocking back drinks like there was no tomorrow. A couple of years ago, that would have been the younger man's default setting. But now? Well, it seemed little Jim Kirk had grown up. The captain was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in his apartment on campus, he wasn't at McCoy's apartment, and he wasn't at any of the lesser-known bars around the academy, which led McCoy here. He didn't really think the younger man would want to be around people right now, but he was running out of ideas.

Pike had promised him he'd keep an eye out, and conduct his own search. They were probably the only people who could reach Jim right now. But all that depended on actually finding the insufferable man.

The doctor downed his drink in one swallow and set the glass back down, rather more forceful than intended, but nobody chose to comment. Instead, they all looked at him expectantly. He let out a frustrated sigh, and chose to focus on Uhura. Of all of them, she seemed to have the firmest grasp on their captain's past; while she didn't necessarily know details, she appeared to have a general idea.

He couldn't help letting out another short breath of air. "Don't bother, I won't answer," he said shortly.

Uhura furrowed her brow at the significant glance he shot at her. There were answers in that gaze, which she suspected only she could see. She nodded slightly, indicating her understanding.

"Why not?" Sulu asked.

McCoy glared at the pilot, who, to his credit, didn't wilt under the heat of his gaze. "It's not my story to tell," he replied simply, voice closer to a growl than anything else.

"Can you just tell us if he's OK?" Uhura asked quietly.

McCoy visibly deflated. "I don't know," he replied, sounding almost defeated. "I was kind of hoping he'd be here."

They all glanced uneasily at each other, feeling much more somber.

"Should ve go look for him?" Chekov asked, gaze earnest as he stared at the doctor.

"No," McCoy answered, a little too quickly. That earned him several questioning looks and a raised eyebrow from Spock. He was actually surprised that the Vulcan had remained quiet so far. He sighed, and pushed himself off of the bar, turning to head out. "He's fine. When he's ready to be found, he'll make it happen."

With that, the doctor quickly made his way out of the bar. Uhura watched him leave, and then, with a mumbled excuse to the rest of them, followed McCoy out.

She caught up with him before he had made it half a block. "Leonard!"

McCoy stopped and turned around, closing his eyes briefly in defeat. He would give almost anything not to have this conversation, but it didn't seem to be avoidable, so he crossed his arms and shifted his weight, adorning his customary scowl.

Uhura wasn't cowed by the glare though, and she simply mirrored his stance and stared back.

Finally, McCoy couldn't take it. For the second time that night, he deflated. "I really don't know where he is, Uhura."

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow and uncrossed her arms. She shifted one hand to her waist, and simply waited.

McCoy sighed and shook his head. "What do you want from me, Nyota?" he asked, almost desperately.

Uhura lowered the eyebrow, but her gaze remained firmly on the doctor's face. "What's going on, Leonard?"

The question was met with silence. McCoy wanted to answer. He knew that the linguist, of all of the command crew, could help him reach Jim. But at the same time, he was hesitant. He had meant what he had said inside. It _wasn't_ his story. It wasn't his life. And he couldn't, in good conscience, betray his best friend's trust like that. He had done it once – and with good reason, he stood by that decision and didn't regret it in the least – but he refused to do it again. If and when Jim wanted people to know, he would tell them.

Uhura was content to wait; she saw the battle raging behind her friend's eyes, and part of her hated herself for causing him so much internal turmoil. But this wasn't about either of them. Jim needed his friends. She didn't know exactly why, but in the last two years, she knew that only one thing could make her captain pull a disappearing act like this. Somehow, this Frank man was connected to his family. And McCoy knew the connection.

The silence stretched on, and finally, Uhura couldn't stand it. "Who was that man?" she asked, direct and to the point.

McCoy winced slightly, and of course the communications officer caught the reaction. Her trepidation grew.

The doctor let out a long breath of air. "A ghost from Jim's past," he replied cryptically.

Uhura bit her lip as she considered that. The doctor had answered more questions than he probably meant to with that. Jim was tightlipped about his childhood. He never spoke about it, never hinted at anything, but she was a linguist. She could read body language; Jim said a lot when he wasn't saying anything. She tried to place this mystery man with everything else she knew. A thought niggled at the back of her mind, a suspicion she wasn't sure she wanted confirmed.

McCoy could see the threads of conclusions beginning to make themselves known in her gaze. Knowledge, uncomfortable truths, facts that could never be unlearned or undone. Reality sat heavily between the pair.

Uhura nodded, not trusting her voice at that moment.

McCoy reached out tentatively and clasped her upper arm, squeezing gently. "He's all right, Nyota," he assured her. She couldn't help raising her eyebrow again, and he shook his head ruefully. "He's going to be fine, Uhura. I promise."

Nyota sighed and pulled back somewhat regretfully. "Take care of him, Leonard," she implored, "I'll be here, if you or he need anything."

McCoy nodded in appreciation. Without another word, he turned around and headed back to the academy. Jim was hiding somewhere on that campus, and damn it, he was going to find him.

**XXX**

Jim looked up at the sound of gravel crunching. His eyes immediately went to the figure making its way towards him.

Recognizing the other man, he smiled slightly and heaved himself to his feet with an almost silent groan, brushing himself off as he stepped forward to meet his visitor.

Sam Kirk stopped a foot away from his brother, standing awkwardly for a moment before extending his arm, intending to go for the acquaintance handshake.

Jim looked at the limb for a moment, and then back up to his brother's face. He shook his head slightly, and moved forward, encircling Sam in a friendly hug.

After the initial shock, Sam quickly returned the gesture. The two stayed like that for several moments, content to just be with each other; it had been so long since they had been this close, physically and emotionally. Even though it had been almost a year since they had started to mend the gap that he had created by leaving Jim all those years ago, the extent of their relationship to this point had been infrequent, short conversations over subspace. Sam had known the _Enterprise_ would be back for a shore leave, but he hadn't suggested meeting; at least, not at first. He knew that he had hurt his little brother, and therefore, it had to be Jim who made the next move.

Until he had gotten the word that Frank was planning on taking a little trip to San Francisco. Sam knew that, no matter what, he needed to see Jim, to let him know. Which was why he was here, now, meeting his brother in some secluded park tucked neatly away between the buildings that made up Starfleet Academy.

Though judging from Jim's actions, Sam figured he didn't need to tell him anything. The captain was now shaking slightly, and, alarmed, Sam realized he was crying.

"Shhh," he began to rub Jim's back, while leading him backwards at the same time, heading for the base of the tree Jim had been sitting at moments earlier. The pair slowly sank to the ground, Sam refusing to let go, and Jim refusing to let him.

"What is he doing here?" the younger man whispered between sobs.

Sam couldn't think of an answer that wouldn't sound empty or callous. "I don't know," he finally replied.

Jim took several gasping breaths and tried to regain his composure. After a few minutes, his cries slowed down, and he pulled back, wiping his nose.

Sam wouldn't let go, and kept one hand on his brother's arm, gripping lightly in support. Jim looked down, embarrassed for losing control like he had.

The pair sat in silence, just taking comfort in each other's company.

Jim couldn't look his brother in the eye. It had been so long since they had been able to be like this; the last time the two had been within touching distance had been his graduation ceremony. Jim hadn't been able to deal with it, and had sent him and his mother away.

It had taken almost a year before Jim was able to work up the nerve to start mending that bridge. And another year's worth of conversations before he was able to deal with meeting face to face again. He wished it could have been under better circumstances.

**XXX**

The grounds had been completely silent for a while, indicating the time to be sometime after midnight; in fact, it was more than likely that dawn was not too far away.

Jim pulled away, standing up and stretching, trying to get the circulation running again. They had apparently been sitting there for a long time, though he hadn't really noticed the time passing.

Sam followed suit, looking around briefly, noticing for the first time just how deserted the campus had become. "We should probably get back…" he started, trailing off when Jim turned to look at him. "It's pretty late," he finished, somewhat lamely.

Jim snorted and nodded. "Come on," he said, heading back to the path. Noticing that he was alone, he turned back and gave his brother a lopsided grin. "You think I'm gonna make you find a hotel at three o'clock in the morning?"

Sam couldn't help but smile back, happy to see a hint of the old Jim Kirk in that statement.

Together, the pair made their way to Jim's campus apartment.

Jim frowned once he entered the room. He could tell that Bones had been there. Had probably spent a great deal of time there, waiting for him. Guilt gnawed at him briefly; he should have contacted him, should have let him know he was all right. He had no doubt that the irritable doctor had spent the entire afternoon, evening, and probably a great deal of the night looking for him.

Sure enough, there was a PADD sitting on the coffee table; picking it up, Jim saw a short note, simply asking that he call when he got back. Glancing at his watch once more, Jim made the executive decision that, as worried as Bones probably was, he would not appreciate getting a call at four o'clock in the morning.

He turned around, and saw Sam watching him, a look of interest written clearly across his face. He smirked. "Bones," he said, holding up the PADD in explanation.

Sam nodded, and looked around the room. It was simple, as most officer quarters on campus were, though considerably larger than cadets were issued. The living room consisted mainly of a couch and coffee table, with a desk sitting in the corner. Only the desk looked like it was used. PADDs were stacked up, messily strewn across the wooden surface.

Several rooms led off of this one; through one open doorway, Sam could see a clearly unused kitchen. Two more closed doors he guessed led to a bedroom and a bathroom. It had the very clear air of an apartment that had not seen inhabitants in quite some time.

While Sam had been observing, Jim had quietly gathered up spare sheets and a pillow. He placed them on the couch and turned to his brother. "Hope this'll do," he said, somewhat shyly. He felt like they were venturing into new territory, building upon the tenuous bond that year of infrequent conversations had created. It was time to see if their relationship could hold up. "Bathroom's through there," Jim pointed to the door on the far right, "And the kitchen's in there," he gestured to the open doorway, "Though I really don't think there's anything edible in there, but if you get thirsty or something…" he trailed off, shrugging as he looked down.

"Thanks," Sam replied, heading to the couch and unfolding the blanket. He stopped after a moment, though, and looked back at Jim. His younger brother was watching him with an unreadable look. Making a swift decision, Sam dropped the blanket and took three steps forward, grasping Jim in a tight and reassuring embrace.

After a moment's shock, Jim was hugging back just as forcefully.

After a minute, the pair separated. Jim turned to his room, and Sam went back to setting up the couch.

"Good night," Jim said quietly as he opened the door.

"Night," Sam responded, throwing his brother a smile as he disappeared behind the closed door.

Sam thought that he might stay awake for a while, thinking about all that had happened in the last fourteen hours or so, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

**XXX**

A heavy pounding intruded on Sam's dream, and he was unhappily dragged back from oblivion.

The pounding didn't stop, however, and the elder Kirk realized that someone was at the door. Someone very insistent, who refused to leave until they were acknowledged.

Sam quickly got up and opened the door, before whoever it was could wake Jim up. He was greeted by a scowling man, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. He appeared to be around the same age as Sam, and had clearly woken up on the wrong side of the bed. He also looked familiar; wracking his brain for a moment, Sam remembered the growling cadet-doctor who had confronted him and his mother when they had tried to attend Jim's graduation ceremony.

"Doctor McCoy, right?" Sam confirmed, stepping back to allow the doctor to enter.

McCoy recognized Jim's brother immediately. He nodded as he stepped over the threshold, taking in the spotless room, with the exception of the desk, and the mess of blankets on the couch. "Jim didn't mention you were coming," he commented dryly, his eyes locking on the closed door that led to the bedroom.

Sam shrugged. "Just thought he could use some company," he replied offhandedly.

McCoy tore his eyes from the door and studied his best friend's brother. There was a double meaning in the other man's words, and McCoy could read between the lines.

Sam met the doctor's gaze unflinchingly. "I came here to tell him." He looked down, as if ashamed. "I was too late."

McCoy snorted. "I'll say," he retorted under his breath. "How is he?" he asked louder.

Sam glanced behind him at the closed door. "Asleep," he replied, tone clearly worried. "We were up pretty late."

The doctor nodded absentmindedly. "But how is he?" he asked again.

"Upset. Angry. Annoyed. Infuriated. Scared." Sam stopped talking and sighed, collapsing on the couch, defeated. "I just want to make everything better. All of it," he admitted ruefully, looking down at his hands. "But I can't. I can't change the past, and I can't change how badly he's been hurt… how badly I hurt him."

McCoy let out a breath of his own, sitting across from the younger man, on the coffee table, so that he could look him in the eye. "No, you can't," he agreed, "and you can't just keep trying to make it up to him." Sam looked up, meeting the doctor's stern gaze. "Jim doesn't need that. He needs you to be there for him, to be a brother to him. The longer you stay caught up in the past, the longer it'll take for you two to have that relationship I know you both want so badly."

McCoy stopped, and waited, watching the other man carefully. After a few minutes, Sam shook his head. "You're right," he confessed. "I know you're right." He sighed again and leaned back, casting his eyes towards the ceiling as he thought. "I want to be his brother. He needs me, and I need him." McCoy nodded his agreement, and Sam brought his gaze back down to the doctor. "He also needs his friends," the man finished quietly.

McCoy glared at him sharply. "He's got them," he retorted. "We're all here for him, if he'd just let us be."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, Jim's not the type to let people in," he agreed contritely.

Any further conversation was cut off by the whoosh of a door. Both men turned in their seats as Jim exited his room, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Looking for his brother, he belatedly noticed his company. "What's up, Bones," he asked resignedly, making for his desk chair and sitting down, leaning back against the desk and observing the doctor through heavy lidded eyes.

Bones glanced from Jim to Sam and back. "Just checkin' up on you, kid," he replied, voice warm and comforting.

Jim raised an eyebrow, and shrugged one shoulder. "Never better," he answered the implied question sardonically.

McCoy snorted humorlessly, while Sam just shook his head wearily.

Jim let his expression fall, suddenly lacking the strength to even attempt to feign unconcern. "I'm fine, Bones," he said quietly, somewhat flatly, but more genuine. "I just wasn't expecting…" he trailed off and looked down, trying to hide embarrassment.

Bones nodded, understanding what his friend was trying to say, and silently offering his support and friendship without even needing to speak a word.

Jim felt a small smile grace his lips; despite this whole situation, Bones was always there for him, always knew just what he needed.

The doorbell chimed at that moment, and all three of them looked over, confused, and maybe a little bit concerned. McCoy and Sam shared a look, and, understanding, Sam moved over to stand beside Jim, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, appearing relaxed to the world, though Jim could see the underlying tension.

McCoy opened the door, and couldn't stop the sigh from escaping as he moved back resignedly to allow Uhura to enter.

The linguist looked around the apartment with interest, taking in the cleanliness and unlived in feel; her gaze rested on Jim, looking decidedly uncomfortable, and the stranger standing beside him, looking almost… protective. She glanced back at McCoy and raised an eyebrow.

The doctor sighed again and shook his head, turning back to the Kirk brothers with a beseeching look.

Sam looked down at Jim, who glanced back, before turning his attention to his newest visitor.

"Lieutenant," he greeted formally, though the fact that he didn't stand up betrayed his current state of mind.

Uhura nodded back, quirking her lips in a half a smile that disappeared quickly under the tangible stress in the air. It was so abundant she could feel it.

Sam watched the newest addition to the room with interest. He knew, from his conversations with Jim over the last year, that this was Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, his brother's chief communications officer, and one of the only women to ever really challenge Jim. He knew that his brother saw her as a friend, a trusted comrade, and a member of his family. It stung a little, but Sam had come to accept it; it was only recently that he had started to think that Jim might also be considering him when he spoke of family.

He saw her flick her gaze to him once more, and, deeming there to be no physical threat to his brother, he pushed off the wall and walked forward. "Sam Kirk," he introduced himself, holding out one hand.

Uhura took the proffered limb, coming out of her shock long enough to respond, "Nyota Uhura."

She couldn't think much beyond that. Sam _Kirk_? What the hell?

Sam saw the confusion and smiled. "Yeah, I said Kirk," he replied with a grin that reminded her so much of Jim that she couldn't do more than blink.

Jim finally stood up, and moved to his brother's side. "Uhura, did I ever mention my brother?" he asked impishly, causing both Sam and McCoy to throw sharp looks his way.

Uhura saw the looks, and couldn't help her own trepidation; Jim sounded very different from the man she had seen at lunch the day before, right before he had disappeared. It made her slightly worried. Jim's default setting always seemed to be evasive. He smiled when he should be crying, laughed when he should be upset, and avoided when he should purge. Jim Kirk wasn't good at dealing with emotions; she had seen that within the first five minutes of meeting him, and the point had only been driven more home in the years that had followed.

That was how she knew that something was really wrong right now. And screw McCoy's belief that he would tell her when he was ready, or her semi-promise to leave it alone until he came to her. She was here now, and she wasn't leaving without answers. And maybe not even then. One thing was certain: Jim Kirk needed his friends right now.

The doorbell rang again, cutting off any reply she might have made. She saw McCoy and Sam look at each other again, and she couldn't ignore the significance in their gazes. She also couldn't stop the uneasy feeling that crept into her stomach as she saw what could only be described as fear flash through Jim's eyes.

The captain took a step back, looking suddenly much younger. Sam glanced back at his brother, worry clear in his eyes, as McCoy moved to open the door, also throwing a cautionary glance back at his best friend.

Uhura was expecting Sulu, or Chekov, or Scotty, or maybe even Spock. She was surprised, and definitely unsettled, to be confronted with the same mystery guest that had disrupted their lunch the previous day.

McCoy's expression turned thunderous, and she noticed Sam and Jim both clenching their hands into fists, unreadable looks on their faces.

"What the hell do you want," the doctor growled, refusing to move from the doorframe and give their unwelcome visitor any leeway to enter the room.

The man simply chuckled and looked the doctor up and down. McCoy wasn't ashamed to admit that it gave him goose bumps, though he refused to let his unease show. He couldn't help but wonder just how his friend had lived with this man for years on end. He wasn't sure he would have come out of it as fierce and strong as Jim.

"I think you should leave, Frank," Sam stepped forward, just one step, not quite willing to get close to the man, but deliberately setting himself in front of his brother, protecting him the way he had failed to do so many years ago.

Frank turned his beady eyes on the elder Kirk and smirked. "Am I not allowed to come check in on my stepsons from time to time?" he asked manically.

Uhura's expression widened as she looked from Jim to Frank and back. Jim never willingly spoke about his childhood, though she had pieced together an incomplete picture; it was enough to set her teeth on edge.

Jim's expression was yet another clue that something was really, really wrong. He didn't look like the cool, calm, and collected captain she had spent two years working with. He didn't look like the player, the genius with the devil-may-care attitude that she had spent three years at the academy with. This Jim Kirk looked more like a scared child than anything else. He had a glazed over look in his eyes that made her think he wasn't really seeing the room in front of him. She wondered where his mind was, but she guessed it wasn't anywhere good.

"You and mom are divorced," Sam replied in a voice that reminded Uhura of nothing so much as the calm before a storm.

"I'm giving you one chance to leave willingly," McCoy snarled, gripping the door tightly and preparing to slam it shut.

Frank glanced over at the doctor, regarding him with something akin to the dirt beneath his shoes. He must have seen something in the younger man's eyes, however, because he looked back over at his stepsons, let out an amused half chuckle, half smirk, and walked away.

McCoy shut the door forcefully, and stared at it for a moment before Sam's quiet and worried "Jim?" caused him to turn around quickly.

The young captain was still standing in the middle of the room, staring at something only he could see.

"Jim?" McCoy moved over to join Sam and Uhura, who were both now crowded around the man. He silently motioned for the two of them to step back, giving them some space. He steeled himself for the inevitable, and slowly reached out to rest a hand on Jim's shoulder.

He knew the flinch was coming, but the violence of it still hurt. It had been so long since his touch had caused that type of reaction. Jim had been doing so well.

Jim knew where he was; he knew he wasn't a kid anymore, and he knew what was going on. Or at least, he thought he did. So why was it that all he could see was a montage of the worst moments of his childhood playing on repeat?

A slight touch brought him out of the memory of his twelve-year-old self getting pushed down a flight of stairs, and he couldn't stop the ingrained reaction. The guilt came quickly when he realized it was McCoy he had flinched away from, and the apology was clearly written in his eyes, as was the doctor's responding 'don't worry about it'.

Jim glanced over McCoy's shoulder and shared a look with his brother. Sam seemed to understand completely, and simply crossed his arms, more to keep himself from reaching out to touch Jim than anything else. He knew that his little brother probably needed some time to regroup before he would be able to handle whatever came next.

He was right, as Jim cautiously extracted himself from McCoy's light but firm grasp, and, with only an apologetic glance towards the doctor and deliberately without meeting Uhura's far too comprehending gaze, he retreated quickly to his room. The telltale sound of the door locking reached all their ears, and Sam quickly collapsed on the couch, exhaling loudly and resting his head in his hands as he beat off the fast approaching headache.

McCoy couldn't tear his gaze away from the now closed bedroom door. He knew he should be in there, but it seemed that Jim wanted to tackle this one alone. He almost growled in frustration. When would the idiot finally realize that he didn't have to be alone? Not anymore. McCoy was there, Uhura was there. The rest of the command crew would be too, if they knew what was going on. And Sam was here. McCoy knew just how much having his brother back in his life meant to his friend.

Uhura looked from McCoy, to Sam, to the closed bedroom door, and back. So many answers, too many, in fact. She was sure this was something she wasn't supposed to see.

There was a quiet knock on the door, which Uhura moved towards, realizing that both McCoy and Sam were too preoccupied to notice the arrival of someone else.

She stepped back, surprised, and allowed a rather harried looking Admiral Pike to enter the apartment.

Pike moved across the threshold slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. While initial reports had indicated he would never be able to walk again, Christopher Pike was a determined man, and he refused to give up.

"Lieutenant," he greeted, giving her a small smile as he took in the rest of the room's occupants. Neither one seemed to notice his presence.

"Admiral," she returned, just as formally.

Pike raised his eyebrow, and asked a silent question. One she understood immediately. "Frank just stopped by," she answered, guessing correctly that he knew about his protégé's past.

Chris swore silently, and threw another glance at the two men still off in their own world. He looked back at the communications officer. "Jim?"

Uhura nodded towards the bedroom. "Locked himself in there," she replied, the worry quickly making itself the dominating emotion in her eyes.

Pike nodded, and quickly limped over to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two men glance up at him, but he focused his attention on the brilliant young captain behind the door.

He knocked lightly. "Jim?" he called out quietly, pausing in the knocking as he waited for a response. There was none, so he knocked again. "Come on, kid, don't make me make it an order," he spoke again, making sure that it was obvious he didn't actually mean it.

Behind the door, Jim stood at the door, sniffling and trying to decide whether he could really afford to offend an admiral, even if it was just Pike.

The admiral stopped speaking, and simply waited. He wouldn't force himself on the younger man.

It took several minutes for Jim to regain his composure. Finally, he wiped his eyes and hesitantly opened the door.

He stared at his mentor, his friend, his father in all but blood.

The redness in his eyes was a dead giveaway for the admiral. Both men looked at each other for a moment, before Pike asked, "How are you feeling?" in a quiet and calm voice that immediately soothed Jim.

The captain shrugged and looked down briefly, unable to answer the question honestly, but unwilling to lie.

Pike was content to wait, and the room fell into silence for several minutes. Eventually, Jim looked up, and the admiral was left reeling by the loss, pain, anger, and fear in the younger man's eyes. He was barely able to register the emotions before the captain was launching himself at his superior, surprising the older man, his friends, his brother, and even himself.

It was only a split second before Pike was hugging back. Jim gripped tightly, trying to pass along his gratefulness for having the man in his life, in that embrace.

And Chris' grip was just as strong. He had never had a son, never even really had any prospects that might result in that outcome. But it seemed that someone had seen fit to grant him that joy, that happiness, that exasperation, anyway. And he really didn't think he could do better than Jim Kirk.

MCCoy, Sam, and Uhura watched as Jim tried desperately to keep from breaking. His eyes were squeezed shut against any tears, and his head was buried in Pike's shoulder.

It was difficult, but Pike managed to shift slightly without dislodging the captain currently adorning his neck, so that he was able to meet McCoy's gaze. He must have been successful in conveying his message, because the doctor quietly but pointedly ushered the other two out of the room, leaving him and his favorite captain alone.

**XXX**

Uhura rounded on the doctor as soon as the door was closed. "What the hell?" was the only thing she could think of to say.

McCoy shook his head sadly. He really wished the lieutenant had listened to him and stayed away. Yes, he knew she could handle it, and maybe even help Jim, but the larger part of him was still stuck on older brother – even though Jim already had one, he would always feel like that was his role to fulfill – and all he wanted was to protect him. From the world, from people finding out about his screwed up past… like Sam, he just wanted to be able to make it all go away.

Uhura waited for an explanation, some reason that could help her deal with the inner turmoil. That man, Frank, gave her a bad feeling. And he was Jim's stepfather? Her captain, her friend, had had to deal with him for years on end? So many blanks filled in, so many answers she wished she could unlearn. And even more questions; that look the old man had graced his stepson with, had turned on her, really freaked her out. It sent a tingle racing down her spine and set her hackles immediately on edge. She recognized that look, and the thought of it being directed at a younger version of her carefree captain made her want to hit something. Somehow, she knew there was more to Kirk's childhood than she was being told.

It was Sam who broke the silence, giving Uhura the clarification she knew she needed, but didn't really want. "Our stepfather," he said simply, determinedly looking over Uhura's shoulder so that he wouldn't have to look her in the eye. "Nice guy, isn't he?" The sarcasm was impossible to miss.

"When was the last time you saw him?" she asked gently, quietly.

Sam shrugged. "I was sixteen when I left, so fifteen years."

"And Jim?" She ignored the almost glare the doctor was leveling at her. She couldn't un-see what had just happened, and she deserved to understand it.

"About ten years," was the response.

The lieutenant blinked. If her math was correct, that meant Jim would have been about seventeen the last time he had been home. What had happened that had knocked him so far off the path he could have had so much earlier? She had no doubt that under normal circumstances, he probably would have graduated high school and joined Starfleet, following in the footsteps of both his parents. Perhaps he might have even been like Chekov, joining while still underage, because she knew his IQ was high enough to warrant it.

But it wasn't normal circumstances; his father had died moments after he had been born, and yes, for some people, that may have been enough, but not Jim Kirk. He was stronger than that, she knew he was stronger than that. There had to be more to it, and she knew that Frank was probably a large part of why his life had been knocked so far off track.

"So why would your stepfather be coming around now?"

"Stepfather?"

Uhura turned around slowly, cursing herself for not hearing the sounds of several people walking down the hall until that moment.

Sure enough, the rest of their command crew had joined them, all looking rather confused.

McCoy swore rather loudly, shaking his head in annoyance. This was really not what he had had in mind for the morning.

It was Sulu who had spoken. It had been Chekov's idea to stop by the captain's apartment that morning. All of them were worried, especially after the rather cryptic conversation they had had with McCoy at the bar the previous evening.

He was a little confused and concerned to see McCoy and Uhura, with some stranger, standing outside in the hall. Was Jim still missing?

Sam saw the interested glances these new arrivals were throwing at him. He recognized all of them, of course, both from the newsvids from several years ago, as well as from the descriptions his brother had given him. He stepped forward and offered his hand to the man leading the group – Lieutenant Sulu, if he wasn't mistaken. "I'm Sam Kirk," he introduced himself, "Jim's brother."

Sulu took the limb and shook firmly, even as his eyes widened in shock.

Uhura couldn't help but chuckle. "That was my response too," she explained when they all turned to look at her.

"De Keptin has a brother?" Chekov asked, as Sam and Sulu let go, and the former turned to reach out to him.

Sam nodded and smiled, though it looked rather more painful than it should have been.

After Chekov, he moved to Scotty. When that handshake was over, he turned to the Vulcan. He knew better than to offer his hand, so he simply nodded a greeting, which was returned austerely by Spock.

"So your stepfather…" Sulu trailed off, leaving an implied question, one he didn't quite know how to voice.

Sam nodded again, this time in the direction of the pilot. "You met him briefly." Sulu furrowed his brow, and the elder Kirk elaborated, "At lunch, yesterday."

Sulu's lips parted as he let out a small gasp, while Chekov and Scotty simply looked more confused, and Spock's only reaction was to raise an eyebrow.

Well, that explained some things. "Is Jim all right?" Sulu queried, glancing towards the closed door that led to the captain's apartment. While he really didn't know what was going on, he, like Uhura, had been able to piece together an incomplete picture. It was enough to have some measure of understanding; or rather, it was enough for him to make several educated guesses, which were confirmed by the actions of the three people in front of him right now.

McCoy, Sam, and Uhura all looked in the same direction, and the whole group could feel the concern and anxiety radiating from the trio.

None of them had an answer, however, and that only caused the newcomers' trepidation to grow.

Finally, McCoy nodded, though it was more of an absentminded motion than any conscious act. "Pike's in there. He'll make sure of it."

**XXX**

Jim held on to his mentor tightly, unable to compose himself long enough to let go.

And Pike was content to let him. He had spent the entire afternoon after McCoy's visit searching for the young captain. He had definitely been more worried than he wanted to admit, but Jim just seemed to elicit that response from him without even trying.

He remembered talking to Jim about his quick ascent to captain, and he remembered the kid's confusion over it. He honestly hadn't understood why Pike would care so much about him. It broke the admiral's heart, but he had spent the last two years trying to show Jim what it meant to be family; and he was happy with the results: if he hadn't been successful, would Jim now be holding on to him for dear life?

Seeing his protégé, his mentee, his pseudo son, like this made that crack in his heart that he hadn't felt in two years reappear. He hated seeing the kid like this, and he hated the man who had made it happen. He had been with Starfleet for decades, as cadet, ensign, lieutenant, commander, captain, and now admiral; he had seen a lot, and done a lot: there had been times where he had done things he wasn't proud of, but he could honestly say that he had never wanted to actually take a life, until now. Frank Malone was probably the one person he wanted dead. Wanted to kill, himself. Would grin maniacally as he ripped apart the body with his bare hands.

He wanted to go back to a time where he could have actually done something to change it, fix it, make it go away. He wanted to feel like something other than a Band-Aid placed over a gash: trying to help, but in actuality useless, the wrong tool for the job. Maybe, though, if he and Jim's new family kept at it, eventually the young captain would believe that he could move on. That the scars didn't have to control him. He knew Jim would never be able to forget, and he wasn't altogether certain that was the best way to go, but maybe with enough help, they wouldn't feel so glaring. They would be able to disappear into the background: always there, a quiet reminder of all he had lived through, but they wouldn't dominate him quite so much. He would be able to go out and live his life without constantly checking to make sure the wounds weren't showing.

Finally, Jim pushed back, wiping his nose as he looked down, simultaneously collapsing onto the couch, almost folding in on himself as he mumbled a quiet and half-hearted apology into his hand.

Pike sat next to him, setting his cane next to him as he turned slightly to get a better look at the captain. He shook his head at the younger man's insane need to apologize for everything. That got quite annoying after a while. He lifted his arm slightly, meaning to encircle the man in a hug, but stopped mid-motion as he noticed the violent flinch strike his usually sturdy frame, making him seem much smaller than normal.

The guilt came quickly for the admiral, knowing that he was the cause of Jim's sudden fear. He lowered his arm, speaking softly as he tried to comfort the man he had really come to think of as a son over the last few years. "It's all right to be upset, Jim." There was no response, except for the slight tensing across the captain's shoulders. Pike turned even more, pulling one leg up so that he could face Jim head-on. "Listen to me, Jim." The younger man lifted his head slightly, indicating his attention. The admiral sighed. "You don't need to be so strong all the time. I know it goes against your nature, but sometimes it's OK to let someone else be the strong one. Let me be there for you. Let me, and Sam, and McCoy, and Uhura, and the rest of your command team shoulder some of the burden. Let us hold you up right now. You've already proved how resilient you are. You don't need to prove anything else. Let us in. Let _me _in." He stopped talking after that, and waited for a response.

Jim heard what the older man was saying, he really did. And he wanted to follow his advice. He was tired of pretending to be unbreakable. And he knew he was only headed for a fall. There was only so long he could hold up the charade, and he knew he was reaching that limit.

"There are some things I just can't think about, Chris." His voice was quiet and almost afraid, as if he wasn't expecting the admiral to understand. "I can't live through it again, I can't," he pleaded.

Chris moved again, ignoring the flinch this time, and wrapped his arms around the young captain. "It's OK, Jim, it's OK."

The pair stayed that way for several minutes, Jim trying desperately not to break down again, and Pike simply comforting, not pressing anything.

"I can't live it again," Jim whispered, voice thick with held-back tears.

"I won't make you, kid," Pike responded automatically, arms tightening, "but I'm here, if you want to talk."

That reply was met with more silence. Finally, Jim straightened up, glancing away towards the closed bedroom door, and then to the door leading out to the hall, where he was sure his friends and brother were standing, waiting.

From there, he shifted his gaze down to his hands, nervously entwined in his lap. "I thought talking to McCoy meant leaving it all behind," he admitted quietly, his use of the doctor's given name betraying his seriousness. Pike nodded in encouragement, but said nothing. "I thought I could just… move on. Forget, you know?" The admiral still said nothing, and Jim let out a long sigh as he buried his head in his hands. "Fuck, I just wanted to forget."

Pike nodded again, feeling like he was missing something. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but there wasn't much he could do. After all, he only knew what Jim told him. And he strongly suspected the young captain was keeping a lot of details to himself.

The silence stretched on, but neither man made an effort to break it. Jim was too busy trying to pull himself together, and stop watching a 'best of' moments of his childhood playing on repeat in his mind. And Pike was content to wait and watch.

Eventually, Jim lowered his hands and sat up, leaning back against the couch, as he transferred his gaze to the ceiling. "Seeing him here, it blew up a lot of these carefully constructed ideas I had about moving on, forgetting it…" he trailed off thoughtfully as he contemplated this new thought trail. He was silent for almost a full minute, and just when the admiral was about to say something – what, he didn't know – Jim pulled his head off the couch and turned to look at his mentor. "But I've finally realized, the only thing I'm afraid of… is being afraid again. I can't forget it, I can't move on. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win. And the _only_ way he wins is if I let him."

Startled, Pike couldn't do much more than stare for a moment. Finally, he blinked, and smiled. "That's right Jim. You're talented, kid, and you're going places. Don't let him take that from you."

Jim nodded, pushing himself off the couch with a silent groan, stretching lightly as he worked out the kinks from sitting down for so long.

Pike followed suit, once again filled with amazement for how the young man in front of him had turned out, despite all the odds. Jim Kirk truly did not know how to lose. It was an admirable quality, and one he both respected and envied. Grabbing his cane, he headed towards the door, stopping before he opened it to say a quick goodbye to the closest thing he would ever have to a son.

And whatever it was he was missing? If and when Jim wanted him to know, he would tell him. He wouldn't force anything.

The admiral was slightly taken aback when he opened the door to find… no one. McCoy must have sent them all away. He almost snorted at the image of the grouchy doctor dispersing the command crew with his usual charm and grace, before reigning in the humor and taking his leave, with the promise that the two of them would spend some real time together during this shore leave, with no Starfleet business intruding; just the two of them, hanging out. Pike was definitely looking forward to it.

So was Jim.

**XXX**

"Is this seat taken?"

Jim looked up, and suppressed a sigh as he put on a facsimile of a smile and jerked his head, indicating for the uncharacteristically nervous Uhura to enter.

The linguist tentatively stepped forward, and sat down on the sofa, crossing her legs at the ankles and settling her hands in her lap, the picture of calm for all the inner turmoil. She had debated, coming up with good arguments on either side, but in the end, she had decided to throw caution to the winds and approach her captain. Who knows, perhaps this conversation could help both of them.

Once settled, she sat in silence, unsure exactly how to begin.

Jim also seemed off kilter. He was settled, not exactly comfortably, but at ease, on the opposite side of the couch, reading what Uhura guessed were reports, something to do with the _Enterprise_.

She waited patiently while he finished with the report, signing at the bottom, and set the PADD on the coffee table. That act done, he turned to face his communications officer, tight smile firmly in place. "What can I help you with, Lieutenant?" he asked carefully. At the woman's glare, he sighed, dropping the act. After everything that had happened, she really didn't deserve the act, not anymore. If he was being honest, she probably hadn't for a while now. "What's up, Uhura," he asked again, this time much more resignedly.

And there was the opening she needed. If only she could figure out where to start. "Frank…" She stopped at the subtle tense of Jim's shoulders, but shook herself off resolutely; she would do this. She _needed_ to do this. She looked down at her hands. "I recognized that look," she finished quietly.

That startled the young captain. There was no question in his thoughts. He knew which look she meant. And she _recognized_ it? "What do you mean?" he asked, probing gently.

The lieutenant glanced up, briefly, before refocusing her gaze downward. "There was this teacher, at my high school," she said, voice soft as she recalled a story she had buried so deeply, she had refused to even think about for years. But for her captain, she would dredge it up. "He would look at me like that. Like he _owned_ me." Jim's sharp intake of breath cut her off, and she looked up again, eyes beseeching as she stared at her captain.

Jim leaned towards her slightly, reaching out to grasp her hand, squeezing gently. "Did he…"

"No," Uhura cut him off, shaking her head without breaking eye contact. "I tried to stay away from him as much as possible. I was fifteen, and maybe a little naïve, but I was smart enough to know what kinds of sick things were running through his mind."

"What did he teach?" This time it was Jim avoiding her gaze as he voiced the question. He was still holding her hand, but focusing on the PADD set on the coffee table.

"Mathematics." Uhura looked down again, though she kept watching her captain out of the corner of her eye. "I'm great with languages, but show me an equation, and my head explodes." Jim snorted and shook his head, glad for the humorous quip; it helped lighten a very tense mood. "He kept trying to get me to stay after class, so that he could… 'help me improve'." She paused, clearing her throat against the threatening tears. "I definitely needed the help, but I wasn't willing to put myself in that position. I'm a smart girl," she finally looked up again, and met Jim's gaze, feeling the water build in her eyes, but not really caring anymore. She felt safe with Jim. She wasn't afraid of him seeing her like this: she knew he wouldn't think less of her. "I knew what would happen if he got me alone. I already had to see him every day in class."

Uhura fell silent, waiting for Jim to say something. After a moment, he complied. "Did you ever tell anyone?"

The lieutenant looked down again, suddenly ashamed. "No," she replied. "But… one day he managed to get me to stay after class. There were a bunch of people around, and I couldn't refuse… He backed me into a corner…" her breathing got choppy as she recalled the worst five minutes of her childhood. "His hands were all over me… I couldn't stop him…" She broke off there, lifting her free hand to her face to wipe away the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.

Jim made no other move than to squeeze her other hand even tighter. He wasn't sure exactly what to do, though he knew that she was a lot like him, and he wouldn't want too much physical contact right now.

When she had herself more under control, he asked, "What happened next?"

Uhura swallowed, and looked over at her captain. "My friend Cody walked by the classroom, he heard, and interrupted. He punched Mr. Orsen and pulled me out of the room. He told me I should tell my parents, but I just wanted to forget about it. I _should_ have told someone," she finished, voice thick with self-loathing. "My parents, my sisters, the principal. My biggest regret is that I didn't _do_ anything. Cody escorted me to and from class for the rest of the year, and then I just avoided him until I graduated. He's probably still teaching. _I should have told someone_," she said again, much quieter and more to herself than her companion.

"We both made that mistake."

Uhura looked up, surprised at the fervent hatred coloring her captain's tone. He wasn't watching her anymore, instead looking down at his own lap, hand still gripping hers. She knew the animosity in his voice was directed entirely internally. She sensed now was a time to remain silent. After a moment, Jim continued, aware of Uhura's presence, but speaking more for himself. Like his communications officer, he had never spoken of it, to anyone. It wasn't in any psych profile, or any doctor's report. He had conveniently avoided that particular part of his childhood when talking to Bones and Pike. They didn't need to know, right?

But Uhura… apparently, she knew what he had gone through on a much more intimate level… he almost snorted at that thought. Bad choice of words.

"Frank was a horrible person all around… and getting pounded on totally sucked, but… those looks were the worst… I could imagine what he was thinking, and I didn't want to be put in that situation. I guess I did what you did; I tried to avoid him as much as possible, and when I just couldn't handle it anymore, I left." He glanced sideways at Uhura, noting the way she had leaned towards him slightly, showing compassion, support, worry, and friendship in that one small gesture. "It never got… I mean, he never…" Jim glanced up again, trying to find the right words but not quite able to form the sentence. Uhura nodded, indicating her understanding. Her heart hurt for her friend, and the child he had never had a chance to be. Jim coughed, a rough sound that mostly disguised the threat of tears. "There were times when he would take something that should just be an innocent touch – a hand on my shoulder, a pat on the head – and just…" He stopped there, suddenly too caught up with the memories of his stepfather's lingering hands, touching him, _caressing him_. He let out an involuntary shudder as he determinedly pulled himself back to the present.

Uhura kept watching him, gaze narrowing as she saw his eyes glaze over, clearly trapped in the past. She waited a few moments, and was relieved when his eyes focused again.

"Sorry," he muttered, letting go of her hand so that he could wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Uhura shook her head, wordlessly dismissing the unneeded apology. Jim smiled slightly, feeling suddenly at ease. He never would have thought, before becoming captain, that he and the aggressive linguist would ever be able to stand each other's company without one of them seriously injuring the other. And yet here they were: coworkers, comrades, and above all, friends.

"I guess we're both just screwed up, then," the communications officer commented, throwing out a smile that was far too carefree to be completely real.

It must have been the right thing to say, however, because Jim snorted in amusement and agreement, and adorned his own customary grin – it definitely wasn't the same, and as a trained linguist, Uhura could tell the difference, but it was a start. It fell after a moment, and the room gave way to silence once more. The two of them simply sat, staring at their own laps as they contemplated all they had learned.

"Thanks."

The word came suddenly, ringing out in the quiet. Uhura glanced up, startled, and was met with the piercing, crystal blue eyes that could only belong to James T. Kirk. There were a lot of things in that gaze, and the linguist knew that even she couldn't see them all, but it felt to her that some layers had been peeled away; she was being allowed to see further into the man she had called captain for the last two years than she ever had before. Further than most people ever got to see. She could probably count on one hand the number of people who had ever gotten to look this deep, and it humbled her, as well as made her gut clench with sorrow and sadness for the man she had once deemed too shallow to ever warrant her attention. James Kirk had depth; more depths than most people she knew. She was suddenly filled with regret for how she had treated the captain during the first few years of their acquaintance.

Not that she would ever show him pity; she had no doubt that she would be catapulted out an airlock if she ever made that mistake.

The smile that graced her lips now was definitely more genuine. She suddenly felt much closer to her commanding officer.

Just as quickly, it disappeared. "You know we're all here for you, Jim," she said seriously. After receiving a slight nod from him, she continued. "I know you're used to going it alone. You had to adapt to survive, right?" Another nod, this one a little more curious. "But Jim, you're not that boy anymore. You've got friends, and we're all worried. We don't care what happened back then. We won't look at you differently, or think any less of you because of it. We care about _you_. Who you are right now. Your past may have had an impact on the man you are, but what matters to us is that you are the kind, caring, compassionate captain we've had the pleasure to get to know over the last two years."

Suddenly Jim was incredibly glad his chief communications officer had sought him out. McCoy and Pike were great, of course, but all they kept telling him was not to let his past define him. Uhura had somehow seen right through him, and knew what he wanted – no, _needed_ – to hear. When had the two of them started to operate on the same wavelength?

"I'm guessing you haven't heard that one yet," Uhura commented dryly, correctly interpreting his facial expression.

Jim looked down, playing with the blanket messily strewn over the couch. "Not really," he admitted softly. "I mean, intellectually, I do know that you all don't care, and that you want to be there, but it's still hard to let myself believe it." He let out a half chuckle, half snort that successfully conveyed his disdain. "Get treated like you don't matter long enough, I guess eventually you start to believe it."

Uhura winced. Sure, her teacher had really scared her, but the worst moment of her childhood had lasted about five minutes. Jim's _whole_ childhood was a series of worst moments, all strung together. She knew she shouldn't compare the two, but she couldn't help it. She really didn't deserve to feel sorry for herself, not when she knew what her captain had had to deal with. Not when she knew that, while she had been busy having family dinners, going to school dances, going out with friends, and generally being a teenager, Jim had simply been trying to survive. It wasn't fair. It so wasn't fair.

"I'm trying, though." Jim's contemplative voice brought her out of her musings, and she glanced over, taking note of everything, from his posture to the tone of his voice. He wasn't looking at her, though his words were clearly meant for her. "Bones thinks that if he reminds me enough, sooner or later it'll stick. But he's a good friend, and I really think he saved me, sort of. I never would've stuck with Starfleet if he hadn't been there. And Chris…" He trailed off, thinking something over, while Uhura waited, almost breathless, captivated by this new side to her captain. Jim finally looked at her, meeting her gaze for a moment before looking down once more. "It took me twenty two years, but I think I finally know what it feels like to have a father," he finished quietly.

Screw it. Before she had even consciously had the though, Uhura leaned forward and embraced her captai – no, embraced her _friend_. She felt him stiffen slightly, more in surprise than anything else, before he was tentatively hugging back. She tried to pass along all of her feelings of the situation, and of him, in that gesture. She couldn't believe she had ever thought of him as a spoiled, arrogant hick. There was an apology and a declaration in her movements, and she closed her eyes as the emotion threatened to overwhelm her. The burn of tears was building up in her eyes, and she let out a quiet sniffle, hoping he wouldn't notice.

But of course, being Jim Kirk, he did. He pushed her back slightly, holding onto her forearms as he studied her with a critical eye. "Uhura? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," she replied, looking down as she wiped her nose, subtly trying to dislodge his hands, but not quite successful. His grip was too strong.

"For what?" Jim countered, completely confused. He felt like he was in completely uncharted waters. He had never seen his chief communications officer as anything other than composed.

After a moment of silence, Uhura responded, voice quiet but completely genuine and earnest. "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you during the academy. It has nothing to do with this afternoon, and this whole conversation-" she knew he would shut down immediately if he thought for a second she was apologizing out of pity, "I just realized I never actually apologized. We've worked together for two years, and you've systematically blown every single one of my assumptions to hell. This apology is long overdue."

Jim smiled and shook his head. "It's all right, I was a jerk." The linguist looked up, ready to argue, but he overrode anything she might have said. "I was, Uhura, and don't try to deny it. I learned a long time ago that if people think you're an ass, they leave it at that and don't bother looking further. Call it a defense mechanism."

Uhura felt understanding dawn, and she almost cursed herself. She had been studying languages of all kinds practically her whole life. And even she had been fooled by his act. Stupid. "Nevertheless, Jim, I truly am sorry, for everything," she answered, almost pleading.

Jim shook his head again. "Not necessary," he reiterated. "Besides, I enjoyed our sparring matches."

Uhura chuckled. "So did I," she agreed. "One of these days, you're going to need to tell me how you became fluent in so many languages."

And there was the self-deprecating look. The captain looked down, suddenly embarrassed. At the Academy, he had always enjoyed surprising his peers. They all assumed him to be the same farm boy, dumb hick, skirt chaser that Uhura had labeled him as, and then proceeded to treat him as such. It was always amusing when they realized he was at the top of his class, and knew enough in engineering, navigation, linguistics, and mechanics to keep up with those who specialized in those areas. "It's really not that much," he replied self-consciously. "I like the classics, so it made sense for me to learn other earthly languages. As for the others… I really don't know that many."

"Come on, Kirk, don't do this, please," Uhura pleaded. "It's impressive, so don't sell yourself short. Vulcan, Cardassian, Andorian, Tellarite, Klingon-"

"Klingon totally doesn't count," Jim interrupted, protesting weakly. "All I can really do is start a bar fight." Uhura couldn't help but snort, and he smirked lightly, tilting his head to the side as he continued. "Not that that's really that hard. Excuse me, is this seat taken? Excuse me, did you know your mother's a halfwit bastard child of a Vulcan? Practically the same thing."

Uhura laughed, and after a moment, Jim joined in, chuckling lightly as he shook his head.

After several minutes, when the two had calmed down, the captain sighed. "I like to learn," he admitted, "I grew up in the middle of nowhere, I got bored easily. I learned how to hack computers at an early age, so I managed to get myself into several long distance learning college courses. I never went for any degree, I just took classes in everything."

Wow. Uhura processed that for a moment, before asking, "How old were you when you started?"

Jim shrugged. "I figured out how to hack when I was about five," he admitted, ignoring the way the lieutenant's eyes widened at the early age. "I didn't realize I could put my name on college course lists until I was seven. You'd be surprised how easy it is to circumvent computer security at your average university."

"I'll bet," Uhura murmured, shaking her head. She really didn't know why she was surprised. After all, she knew his IQ was almost high enough to rival Spock's.

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Jim groaned before standing up. "That's probably Bones," he said, stretching his arms lightly. "He keeps coming up with things to do together, like he's afraid to let me out of his sight or something. I had to beg him to go check in at the hospital, make sure the _Enterprise_ will be fully stocked by the time we leave, just so I could get an afternoon alone to do some paperwork."

"He cares," Uhura argued as she too stood up, wincing as she felt several vertebrae in her back pop.

"I know he does," Jim replied quickly. "And I totally get it. But sometimes I just need space, you know?"

The linguist nodded. She did know. "Does he-"

"No," Jim cut her off quickly, knowing exactly what she was asking. "I trust him, I really do; I just never really wanted people to know. I've only ever told him and Pike about the physical stuff," he admitted, not meeting her eyes as he stared resolutely at his shoes.

Uhura nodded in understanding. She definitely knew where he was coming from. She would have happily gone her whole life without dredging up those memories, had this situation not demanded it. Not that she regretted it, at all. She felt like she and Jim had formed an entirely new relationship this afternoon, stronger and deeper than before. And for better or worse, there was no going back.

Jim moved over to open the door, stepping back to allow the doctor to enter, holding in the sigh he wanted to emit, knowing that Bones was only doing this because he cared.

McCoy raised his eyebrows at Uhura, looking back and forth between the lieutenant and captain, waiting for answers.

"We were just talking," Jim replied to the unasked question, going back to the couch and settling down, picking up the PADD that lay discarded on the coffee table and flicking through virtual pages, presumably of reports he had abandoned in favor of talking to Uhura.

"Don't get too comfortable," McCoy warned, "I promised Pike we'd meet him for dinner. If we don't leave soon, we're going to be late."

Jim looked up from his work, meeting Uhura's gaze in a clear _see what I mean?_ look.

One side of her mouth quirked up in a half a smile, thankfully unnoticed by the doctor, who was too busy studying his best friend and captain.

With a long sigh that they both knew was probably more for theatrics than anything else, Jim stood up once more, tossing the PADD down and heading back to his room. He emerged five seconds later, jacket in hand. "All right, Bones, let's go eat."

McCoy nodded in satisfaction, turning around immediately and making his way out the still open door.

"Do you want to come?"

Uhura looked up, surprised, as McCoy also spun on his heels to regard his friend. "Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "I don't want to crash-"

"I want you to," Jim cut her off yet again. There was no mistaking the earnest expression, and even a slight pleading in his eyes.

McCoy felt like he had missed something big this afternoon. Something had changed in the dynamic relationship of the pair.

Smiling, Uhura nodded. "I'd love to," she said, following the doctor out. Jim brought up the rear, closing and locking the door behind him, before the trio made their way down the hall and out into the fading sunlight.

**XXX**

Pike was waiting for them. He had thought it best to forgo a typical restaurant meal, and instead had planned for a small picnic at a little known lookout spot above the city. He had discovered the clearing, set between the tree line and a cliff during his second year at the Academy. Unlike some of the other lookout spots surrounding the city, this one had clearly never seen a human presence. He had come up here a lot over the years. It was a great place to be alone, to think, to just escape from the confines of modern life.

The trees rustled, and he turned just in time to see Jim, McCoy, and Uhura push their way past the tree line to join him. He didn't show surprise at the unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome, addition. He really liked the young lieutenant. Mostly because she was one of the few people who could sit Jim Kirk on his ass without batting an eyelash. He nodded in greeting, and held out a beer bottle, which quickly disappeared into Jim's hand.

"Nice place," the captain commented, taking a seat next to the admiral as he admired the view.

Pike nodded in agreement, taking in the lights of the city below them and the stars splayed above.

"How'd you find this place?" McCoy queried, helping himself to a beer of his own and passing one along to Uhura as the two of them also sat down.

The admiral shrugged, taking a swig from his own bottle as he admired the view. "A little exploring off the beaten path when I was at the Academy," he replied, a little wistful for those youthful days that were long behind him. "Nice, isn't it?"

"Beautiful," Uhura agreed as the captain and doctor nodded.

More rustling was heard behind them, and the three newcomers glanced around, confused.

Pike chuckled, drawing their eyes to him. "I invited a few other people," he explained, smiling.

They all looked back at the trees, Jim not quite able to keep the trepidation off his face as the rest of his command crew, plus his brother, exited the foliage.

"They want to be here for you."

Jim looked over at Pike's quiet comment. Their eyes met, and there was no mistaking the gentle caring in the older man's eyes. There was a subtle plea in the admiral's gaze. A silent request not to shut them all out. Not to shut _him_ out. A reminder that these people here now, they were his family. And they would walk through fire for him, had already done so on multiple occasions.

Jim nodded, just once, a slight twinkle in his eyes as he communicated his understanding. It was time to let it go. Not necessarily of what had happened, all he had been through, but it was time to stop being afraid. These people had already proved, time and again, that they wouldn't leave. So he needed to stop fearing it. He didn't have to break down and tell them the whole sordid story; they were all incredibly smart, and had most likely worked out some version of the truth. And they were still here. Perhaps one day, he might tell them. But for now, they were all together, sharing a meal with family. They weren't leaving, and they weren't looking at him any differently. For now, that was enough.

Jim chuckled at a really bad joke Scotty was telling, which turned into an all-out laugh as Spock chimed in, commenting on the illogicality of such a statement, which turned into Scotty defending his joke, which prompted a debate on jokes in general, with Spock refusing to budge on his stance that telling a quip that was clearly a fabrication and therefore of no use to anyone was not logical and a waste of time.

All around, smiles broke out, seeing their captain smiling like the man they were so used to seeing.

As the evening wore on and the shadows deepened, the group continued to talk and laugh, simply taking pleasure in each other's company. Pike was content to watch, his eyes resting on Jim more than anyone else, warmth and pride easy to see in his gaze. He enjoyed seeing these people interact with each other. Nostalgia was quick to make itself known, and he remembered his own crew with fondness. But his days in the captain's chair were over. Today belonged to another generation. He would never be able to simply step back, but then, he didn't think this crew wanted him to either. He truly looked forward to seeing what these kids would accomplish together.

Jim met his gaze again, and the older man could see no hint of a shadow in his relief's clear blue eyes. They twinkled with mirth, their brightness only eclipsed by the stars that shone above. Pike felt another swell of pride and affection overwhelm him, and he vowed, yet again, to spend the rest of his days making sure this man knew just how special he was.

Jim smiled at his mentor, completely relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. Here, surrounded by family, he was home.

Sam chose that moment to bring up some embarrassing childhood story, involving a seven year old Jim running away with the girl who lived on the next farm over, and several accidents in the area that arouse afterwards. The captain rolled his eyes, taking a swig from his second beer bottle as he casually pushed his brother over.

Sam put out one hand to stop himself, wincing as his own beer bottle shook, causing some liquid to splash onto his hand. The rest of the group was still laughing at the part of the story they had heard so far. Jim shook his head, and looked at his crew, eyes wide and innocent.

Uhura _almost_ bought it, but then, she had seen him use the same look on everyone, from girls at bars to his professors. She considered herself proud to be immune to his charm. And that look signified the beginning to what was sure to be an Epic pile of bullshit.

"I was seven. I can't be held accountable for my actions, or any potentially destroyed pieces of property that may have occurred during that time," the captain said innocently. His eyes locked with Uhura for a moment, and she caught a glimpse of something darker beneath the lighthearted quip. Instinctively, she knew there was more to it than he was willing to share with the rest of the group.

But unlike the rest, she knew more about the kinds of things that could lead to a seven year old Jim running away from home. She swallowed, and inclined her head a fraction of an inch, understanding that he was giving her the answers he withheld from everyone else, a silent acknowledgement of the afternoon they had shared and the bond that had been formed.

The shadow disappeared, not completely, but pushed far enough into the background that even she couldn't see it anymore. She didn't think those shadows would ever vanish completely.

But for the moment, they were all here, and happy. For the first time since she was fifteen, she truly felt like she could move on.

**XXX**

It was unintentional. Dinner had ended much later than anticipated, and Pike had generously offered up his house, much closer than the Academy, for the crew to crash. Thus they all ended up heading back to campus, and the _Enterprise_, together.

Uhura noticed him first. They were walking across the grounds when she saw the profile of a man she knew she'd never forget. Quickening her pace slightly, she reached out to tug McCoy's sleeve. Gaze questioning, he obediently slowed his pace, and the two of them dropped to the back of the group. Saying nothing, Uhura nodded her head towards Frank Malone, who was standing fifty feet away from them, eyes fixed on his stepsons, a smirk on his lips and a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

Swearing softly as he followed the lieutenant's gaze, McCoy narrowed his eyes and made his way towards the intruder. Uhura was quick to follow, her own gaze determined as she locked onto her target. Neither one noticed the attention they drew from the rest of the command crew, who all saw the wavering attention of doctor and communications officer, nor did they see the fear flash across the faces of both the captain and his brother.

The rest of the group followed Uhura and McCoy, both Kirks bringing up the rear cautiously.

McCoy slowed when he was a few feet away from Frank, and opened his mouth to speak, but was startled into silence – something that rarely, if ever, happened – when Uhura blew passed him and landed a vicious punch across the older man's face.

Jim felt some of his anxiety lift as he witnessed his crew's eagerness to protect him, and couldn't help but snort at the flabbergasted look on his former stepfather's face.

McCoy's mouth twisted grimly. He refused to smile at Uhura's action, though he felt like doing the same thing. "I gave you a chance to leave," he commented as Frank straightened, rubbing his jaw as he glared at the fiery woman.

"It's a free country," Frank replied petulantly.

The doctor did snort this time, taking another step forward, which brought him within striking distance himself. "I'm not going to ask again," he growled, eyes narrowed with not a hint of hesitation.

"Bones." McCoy glanced behind him, worry overriding anger as his best friend moved forward to join him.

Jim's gaze was locked on his onetime stepfather. "Go home, Frank," he said simply, steel in his voice that made all of those who had an understanding of the situation incredibly proud. Sam quietly joined his brother, situating himself half a step behind the younger man.

Frank let go of his jaw, as he looked his stepson up and down.

Jim suppressed a shudder at the all to familiar gleam in the other man's eyes.

Frank smirked and stepped forward, causing Jim to shift back involuntarily.

Spock moved before anything else could happen, and was retracting his hand from the now unconscious Frank Malone before the rest of them had realized what he had done. "Is there something particular you would like done with this man, Captain?" the Vulcan queried calmly, looking at his commanding officer.

Jim stared at the commander, trying to read the bland expression. Over the last two years, he and his first officer had become good friends, and he counted himself among the few who could actually see underneath the stoic exterior. Therefore, he was able to decipher the care and concern written in the Vulcan's eyes.

He glanced over at his brother, raising an eyebrow in silent question. Sam shrugged in reply. Jim looked back at his first officer. His face was carefully blank, hid voice neutral, as he answered, "I don't really care what you do with him, Spock. As long as I don't ever have to see him again."

With that, Jim turned around and made his way back to the path they had been walking along, before their unfortunate interruption, followed quickly by Sam.

"Was that an invitation?" Uhura asked, looking at the unconscious man, eyes gleaming with possibilities.

"I do not think the captain was condoning murder, Lieutenant," Spock replied.

McCoy spared a moment to wonder just what had the communications officer so eager to defend Jim, before turning to the Vulcan. "Did you have any recommendations?"

"I may have one," Scotty interrupted, looking from the doctor to commander and back. At McCoy's raised eyebrow, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, looking suddenly too innocent. They were all immediately wary; after all, they had seen this look before, right after the crazy Scotsman had done something wrong and usually before he started off on a longwinded explanation of why it wasn't his fault and how he could fix it. "Well, I was thinkin', Admiral Archer's beagle's probably gettin' mighty lonely."

McCoy shook his head. By now, they all knew the story behind Scotty's exile on Delta Vega. "I don't think that's what Jim had in mind," he said, though his tone made it clear he was not opposed to the engineer's solution.

"I'll take care of it."

They all turned to see Pike, with several security officers, join them. He nodded to McCoy, a simple gesture laden with meaning. "If I'm not mistaken, you all need to get back to your ship. I'll handle Mr. Malone, here." The glare directed at the man in question clearly stated what the admiral thought of his self-imposed mission.

McCoy paused for a moment, and felt the collective gazes of the entire group. Finally, he nodded his assent.

Pike flicked his gaze over to Spock in a clear a dismissal. The commander nodded austerely, before turning around and following Jim's path. Sulu and Chekov were next, looking at each other, and back to the admiral, before they too left. Scotty glanced at the trio around him; his genius brain was able to pick up on their desire for a moment alone, so with a quick nod to the admiral, he followed his friends away.

McCoy glanced at the communications officer, who made no sign of leaving before him. With a sigh, he turned back to Pike. "You know, if you wanted to… _dispose_ of him, I'll alibi you."

Pike snorted, shaking his head. "Thanks, McCoy, but I think I've got other options." He extended his arm, and the doctor took it, gripping tightly. "Take care of each other up there." He glanced over at Uhura, expression warm and caring. "That's an order, got it?"

The lieutenant nodded, smiling. "Yes sir," she replied.

Both of them understood the silent message. Together, doctor and linguist headed towards hangar, their original destination, and beyond that, back to the _Enterprise_. It was time to go home.

Pike, watching them walk away, was filled with a sense of assurance. With a command crew like that, he knew Jim would be well looked after.

Turning around, he motioned for the security guards to pick up the still unconscious man.

"Where should we take him, sir?" one of the guards asked.

Pike's gaze narrowed, as he once again had to look at the mockery of a man that had abused the trust he had been given. He saw absolutely no excuse for men like Frank. "Lock him up," he replied harshly.

The first guard nodded and began to haul the man up, while the second one hesitated. "May I ask what the charges are, sir?" he queried cautiously.

Pike didn't take his eyes off Frank. "Assaulting a Starfleet Officer," he replied, voice clipped. It was sort of true; and it gave him the time he needed to come up with something else.

The man blinked and nodded, hurrying to help his partner haul the comatose man away.

Chris turned back to the now empty path. A small smile found its way onto his face, and he felt a sense of calm wash over him. Jim would be all right. He wasn't alone up there, and Pike knew that that command crew would do anything to protect their captain. It was crews like that that made an admiral incredibly proud. Letting out one last sigh for the days where his office overlooked the gloriousness of space instead of a square of grass, where he lived among the stars instead of under a mountain of paperwork, Admiral Christopher Pike gripped his cane tightly and followed after the security officers. He knew he had had the right of it last night. His day was over, and it was time for a new generation to make their mark on the universe. And with James T. Kirk in charge, he knew it would happen with a bang, not a whimper.

_And…. Let's out huge sigh of relief! Wow._

_I totally didn't mean for this story to go that way, but then I started writing, and this just kind of came out. I actually had planned on writing it completely differently. Until I opened up the word document and actually started typing. Weird. Well, it's not like I ever plan my stories, I just write them as they come, so I hope this sufficed. _

_As always, please review!_


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